The Room of Lost Things
by turbomagnus
Summary: A collection of Harry Potter shorts and drabbles, usually featuring H/Hr. Treatment of other characters may vary.
1. An Ancient Method of Torturing Males

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 19 June.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Harry Potter... J.K. Rowling... thank God she finally came to her senses... Yeah, all of that.

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"An Ancient Method of Torturing Males"  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

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Hot needles under the fingernails, boiling oil being poured on unprotected flesh, literal salt rubbed into wounds, prolonged exposure to whiney teeny-bopper pop music; these were all things that he'd rather be going through at the moment than the torture he was now experiencing. No fully-sane red-blooded male could ever consider going clothes shopping with their best female friend as anything other than torture, especially in this situation.

After all, what kind of a 'best friend' drags a guy into the foundation department? And then treated it like some kind of fashion show? Evil, that's what kind, he'd decided, especially with that fact that she'd just picked up something that definitely wasn't designed for modesty and concealment...

"What do you think of this set?" She asked, holding the underwear up to her body.

"They're a two," he mumbled as something began to bend inside of him...

"A two?"

"Yeah," he finally answered with complete honesty as that thing inside him snapped completely - causing him to pin her in place with green eyes that now smouldered, "Two seconds before I ripped them off and had my way with you."

"What did you just say?"

"If I saw you in that, as soon as my brain rebooted I'd be doing my best to get you out of it," he elaborated, eyes lingering on parts of her body they had distinctly avoided before, causing her to grow warm.

Slowly, deliberately, she made a show of carefully putting the underwear set in the shopping cart as he watched her. The 'Smartest Witch of Her Generation' then turned her brown eyes on the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and said one word, a simple question...

"Promise?"


	2. Special Delivery

(HP/HG, On Valentine's Day, Ginny gets a unique form of warning to stay away from Harry.)

Disclaimer: For better or worse, for richer or... well, mostly richer, all things considered, "Harry Potter" and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling and are used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

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"Special Delivery"  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

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It reminded those who had been there of the year Gilderoy Lockhart had spent as Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, that had been the only other time in the long history of Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft that such a spectacle had been seen before. It was meant to do so. The events of that Saint Valentine's Day past had helped to perpetuate a myth among the populace of Hogwarts particularly and Magical Britain in general and it was time for that myth to die a painful and public death. Preferably before one of those involved in the true state of events lost their patience and subjected certain parties involved in the myth to a _slow_, painful and public death to prove a point. Even if there existed a not-entirely-small part of the one involved in the true events that would enjoy and, in fact, had even developed certain plans and methods for the party involved in the myth's death.

As it was, however, the Great Hall of Hogwarts was silent. There were simply too many questions running through the minds of both students and professors for any of them to form the words necessary to vocalize those questions. As though it were an everyday occurence, a dwarf dressed in the cherub-esque outfit associated by so many with Cupid, the Greek God of Love, marched head held high and bold as the proverbial brass towards the table of Gryffindor House, paying no mind to any other being or to the accruments of the holiday that decorated the room on the present Saint Valentine's Day. Upon reaching the table, the dwarf began walking down the table, looking for the particular student to whom they had been directed by the one who had hired them to deliver a message.

"You Ginny Weasley?"

The red-haired girl nervously looked over her shoulder at the dwarf, staring at him for a moment as though trying to decide how to answer.

"Well, what is it, yea or no?"

"Yea... um, yes, I'm Ginny... uh..."

"Got a message for you," the dwarf coughed into his hand before beginning his recitation, "Ahem... 'Roses are red; Violets are blue; He is for me; He is _not_ for you; And if you should try to take my place; I'll take my fist and smash in your face, his eyes may be as green as fresh pickled toad, but you should take my advice and just hit the road'. Right, that's done it."

"Not bloody well paid enough for this," the dwarf muttered as he turned and walked away, "Should have just taken that offer to be on Muggle telly... Just because they can't tell a tall dwarf from a short human doesn't mean I should've dismissed 'em so quickly, it doesn't, by Grungi... Wouldn't have to wear this bloody stupid costume, no matter how well paid I'm being..."

Ginny stared after the departing dwarf in surprise for a moment before exclaiming loud enough to be heard through the Great Hall even if it hadn't been silent, "What is Merlin's name was that?"

As though the exclaimation had been a cue, the volume level in the Great Hall suddenly shot back up above and beyond what it had been before as students and even staff began to discuss what they had just paid witness to, some in disbelief, some in amusement, a few in anger and two occupants of the room in satisfaction.

Harry Potter leaned over so that only the girl next to him could hear his comment, "Subtle."

"I thought so," Hermione Granger turned her attention back to her meal with a satisfied smirk on her face.


End file.
